The good news is that I had spaghetti for lunch.
Leftover spaghetti, quinoa pasta and sweet Italian sausage, warmed up in the microwave. It was delicious. Yes, it was.
I was able to use the microwave because nobody is here working on our kitchen.
Two weeks ago, we had some tough talks with the construction crew about work quality and the need to have some things redone.
Last week, Shawn was in California on business, and we took a break from having workers in the house.
Shawn arrived home late Friday night. On Sunday night, he emailed the
contractor. As far as we knew, they were coming today; they said they
were coming today. We stayed up late last night, moving back out of our
unfinished kitchen, transferring our food back into the basement
refrigerator, carrying dishes back up to "the bunker," a.k.a David and
Jon's room. I got up extra early this morning, to spread some cardboard
we'd saved over some surfaces we felt would need extra protection
during the re-work.
I left the house at 8:25 a.m. for a long meeting, and Shawn was going to stay until the crew arrived to start.
I arrived home at 1:10 p.m. to an empty and untouched house . . .
at which time I fixed myself a delicious plate of spaghetti leftovers and focused on counting my blessings.
It is raining.
I can't reach Shawn at work to ask what is going on.
Breathe. Pray. Hope.
Probably, the kitchen will not be done by Easter. That is not what I am hoping.
I am just hoping for the best, for the sovereign hand of God working on
my behalf, for peace, for God's will to be done on earth as it is in
heaven, for assurance that God is on my side and that He will never
leave me nor forsake me.
These things are all true. He loves me. Jesus loves me.
And He allowed me to have spaghetti for lunch.